


Beside Me

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, F/M, GH-325, Sex, Sleeping Together, carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2827145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the carving gets worse, Phil asks Melinda to sleep beside him. Written for Philinda Secret Santa</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> Written for the amazing itsareallynicebus, my prompt was 'Wrapped Around Her (Smut)'. I really hope you like this fic! It wasn't my first idea, that one involved Bahrain and a truck load of angst. This just involves a car load. I hope you enjoy it all the same! 
> 
> Huge, *huge* thanks to my writing partner in crime suallenparker who brainstormed and cheerleaded me to victory. So much love to you, my darling.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! : )

Phil Coulson washed his hands in the sink, rinsing away the dust from the drywall. Carving always left him drained, even more so than fighting his compulsion. But now there was relief running underneath his skin. His body had got out what it needed to. However, those periods of relief were becoming shorter and shorter; the urge to carve growing more and more apparent in his system. That was a problem for another day. For now, he just wanted to sleep.

 

Stepping out of the small bathroom, Phil glanced down the end of the corridor to see Melinda locking up with a good old fashioned padlock. These sleeping quarters were close to his office, and had once been used by the head of this SSR base and his young daughter. Phil slept in the larger of the two rooms, Melinda the one next door. She had moved in the morning after his first carving incident. It was almost like being back at the Academy. Bunk mates.

 

“Get some sleep, Phil,” Melinda said as she passed him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

As his partner went to clean up from another long day in the field, Phil’s hand shot out to snag her own. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Maybe it was a similar reaction to the carving: a compulsion to reach out and touch her.

  
“What’s wrong?”

 

“I...” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. It felt like sandpaper against his skin. “I need something from you and I’m not sure how to ask for it.”

 

Melinda closed the distance between them, her hands resting on his upper arms. Her support had been incredible. Phil didn’t know how he would have survived this without her. “Anything, Phil.”

 

“Spend the night with me.” The pressure of her fingertips increased, digging into the cotton of his shirt. Before she could answer, Phil clarified matters. “Just…sleep beside me. The last two weeks I’ve been going out of my mind trying to hold it in. And even now…”

 

“You’re worried you’ll have another episode tonight.”

 

Phil nodded wearily. Sleep hadn’t come easy the past two weeks, and he wasn’t looking forward to another night of desperately trying to push his compulsion away. If Melinda was beside him, watching over him, then maybe he could feel peaceful enough to sleep. There were risks involved, of course. He’d been keeping people at a distance since this had begun and Melinda sleeping beside him could lead to very unfortunate consequences. “If you don’t think it’s safe…”

 

“I’ll get my things.”

 

And just like that, Melinda was spending the night beside him. Phil undressed in his own room, carefully folding his slacks and hanging up his shirt. His head felt fuzzy, like he’d woken up with a hangover. He dressed in his pyjama pants and an old SHIELD t-shirt before slipping under the sheets. The last time he’d shared a bed had been with Audrey. He’d woken up with her head resting on his chest, her hair fanned out over his arm. Those memories seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

Two raps on the door signalled Melinda’s arrival. He was so used to seeing Melinda in SHIELD issue tactical gear that he’d only just got used to the casual shirts she wore. But now he swallowed as she approached his bed, the sleep shorts she had on leaving a lot of skin in view. Phil had forgotten just how amazing her legs were. Melinda wore a SHIELD t-shirt too, although it was a couple of sizes too big. Phil believed it might have even been his half a lifetime ago.

 

“Is the right side okay?” He asked, sitting up as Melinda joined him on the bed.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Melinda didn’t get underneath the sheets like he expected. She curled up at the head of the bed, arms holding her knees as she watched him. She needed sleep too, and Phil hoped that once he drifted off she would find her own rest. As her hand came down to reassure his shoulder, Phil closed his eyes. He was safe here with Melinda. Nothing could touch him with her watching over him. If only his worries weren’t fixated on _her_ safety.

 

Still, it only took a few motions of Melinda’s thumb rubbing against his collarbone for him to drift off into sleep.

 

\--

 

Phil yawned as he sat on the end of his bed, his body sore after his fight with the woman that used to be Agent 33. A shower would have helped, but Melinda had beaten him to it. She needed it more than him. Sitting with his hands on his lap, replaying the day’s events, Phil watched as they trembled. The shaking would make it harder to carve, but he would get there. He _needed_ to carve.

 

Across the hall, Phil heard the water stop. Moving from the foot of the bed, he slid under the black sheets; back flat against the mattress. After what had gone down in that penthouse, Phil expected Melinda to seek the solace of her own bed. She would need some space, some time to regroup. Yet Phil selfishly wanted her there beside him. His fingers, tremoring, gripped the empty space. He wanted to feel her hand on his shoulder, hear her slow and steady breathing as he slipped into sleep.

 

He needed _her_. But he would survive. Already she’d given him so much of herself. It was like some sort of twisted exchange. He could give up one night of her by his side if she put a bullet in the back of his skull.

 

Phil’s heart leapt at the sound of her two familiar raps on the door, all manner of deals and conversations forgotten. Melinda gingerly stepped inside, her body seemingly swallowed by the pyjamas she wore. She looked like she was in a great deal of pain. “Maybe you should let Doctor Jenkins take another look at you. Wouldn’t hurt to spend a night in the infirmary.”

 

“Tell that to my spine. I hate hospital beds.”

 

The pyjamas she wore covered up the burns she’d suffered, the bruises that would no doubt come through purple tomorrow morning. Melinda took her stationary position on the right side of his bed, reaching down for a glass of water to take some of the painkillers that would help her sleep. They’d tried so many of those with him, desperately hoping to find something that would ease this compulsion. Nothing had worked. Sometimes he felt like nothing ever would.

 

“You know, up until your evil twin showed up, I was having a good time.”

 

Melinda snorted as she put the glass down. “I hate dancing. I hate high heels. I think my feet are going to be in pain for a week.”

 

“I could always give you a foot massage if you want,” Phil joked, grabbing for Melinda’s foot until she kicked him away. “I give great massages.”

 

“I just want to sleep.”

 

Phil watched, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile, as Melinda opened the corner of the sheets and slipped inside. She winced as she positioned herself on her side. Her hand crossed the distance between them, taking up position on his right shoulder. Her fingers stroked him through the cotton of his t-shirt, trying to help him pass out into unconsciousness. Phil’s own hand held her arm, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist.

 

Melinda closed her eyes first.

 

\--

 

Rinsing his eyes free of shampoo, Phil stepped out of the shower and adjusted the towel around his waist. After the day he’d had, a long shower was the ideal remedy. It was also a distraction from the release he _knew_ would help. The night before he’d given in to another carving session. They were becoming more and more frequent, and Phil could see the worry etched into Melinda’s face every time he asked her to watch him. Maybe now that Skye was involved they could find an answer to what it all meant.

 

Suddenly the door to the bathroom swung open, Melinda walking through and pulling off her black shirt in the process. Phil’s mouth gaped open as she came through, his eyes trying not to focus on the black bra she wore. She looked up, the hand clutching her shirt moving closer to her body as she saw him. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked. I thought you were in your office.”

 

“Nope. Just brushing my teeth.” He held up the tube of toothpaste in his right hand. “Shower’s all yours if you want it.”

 

Melinda hesitated, her body caught between the door and the path to the recently vacated shower. This wasn’t the first time they’d ever shared a bathroom: Phil dimly recalled a prank where she’d filled his shampoo bottle with icing sugar. They shared a bed now; there should be no awkwardness between them. So Phil was glad when Melinda closed the door of the bathroom behind her.

 

“I left you some hot water.”

 

She smiled as she slipped past him into the stall. “Thanks.”

 

Phil’s hands gripped the sink, watching in a single corner of clear mirror as Melinda pulled the shower curtain tight across. There was a towel already hanging up, and a hand ducked over the curtain to drop her pants, her bra, her _panties_ to the floor. His grip grew even tighter as he thought about her under that hot spray of water, soaping up her skin. Ever since he’d begun carving, all his other desires had fled away. Now, _now,_ an old one had returned. A desire to touch Melinda.

 

“Now that we know Skye’s father is a player, I’ve decided to increase her training. You don’t think it’ll be too much, do you? Now she knows what’s going on with you?”

 

Phil blinked furiously, concentrating on their conversation and not on his urges. “I think she’ll be fine.”

 

“Do you think she could find a cure?”

 

He knew Melinda well enough to hear the slight twinge of hope in her voice. He wanted to live, he wanted to be able to lead SHIELD and see this through to the very end. But he’d seen Garrett, seen all he had been responsible for. He had to be practical, not rely on hopes and wishes and fantasies that would satisfy _nothing._ Yet there was still a bitter twist of hope in his own voice.“Maybe.”

 

“If there’s one out there, I think Skye will find it.” There was a pause, then the uncapping of a bottle. Shampoo maybe, or body wash. Phil sucked in a breath, trying not to focus on _that_ image. Another fantasy he couldn’t indulge. “I’m glad you brought Bobbi on board, I think she’ll be good for us. Even if it doesn’t work out, it was worth it for the look on Hunter’s face.”

 

Phil managed a laugh, the tremor in his hands stopping long enough to squeeze out a line of toothpaste. “It was; it really was. She’ll be good for us. I think, when things run their course with me, she’ll make a good assistant director.”

 

In the clear space of mirror, Melinda’s head appeared around the curtain. Her skin was soaking wet, suds sliding down her skin. Her hair clung to her body. “If, Phil. _If._ ” That was all she said before the curtain drew closed again. “Bobbi’s good, Clint taught her well. But _if_ it ever came to that, I was thinking Sharon.”

 

“Be nice to have a Carter on base again.”

 

“My thoughts exactly.”

 

As the water turned off, Phil made sure his eyes kept straight ahead. He saw her in that small square of clear mirror wrapping a towel around her body. She was beautiful, he’d always thought so. Sexy on occasion; terrifying more often than not. As she walked past, her hand grazing his shoulder, Phil realised he was in a hell of a lot of trouble. “I’ll see you in bed, okay?”

 

Then she was gone, his mouth open as he watched her leave. Maybe…maybe Skye would find a cure. She was resourceful, intelligent, like Melinda said if anyone could she could. Maybe if he got better he could explore this like he’d always wanted to. Maybe…

 

Phil turned back to the mirror, the symbols smudged into the foggy surface. He wasn’t getting better. He would never get better. Snarling, Phil furiously wiped away the image of his surreptitious carving. There was no issue of if, of maybe. Just when, and _never._

 

\--

 

This time there wasn’t a knock as Melinda opened the door to his bedroom, just the careful click as she closed it behind her. Phil looked up from the book he was reading, slipping his glasses off to look at her better. She looked harried, tired. Melinda didn’t even hesitate to climb into bed beside him, her body propped up against the headboard. Putting his book to one side, Phil turned to his partner.

 

“How are they?”

 

“Not good. I got Jenkins to give them something to help them sleep, Jemma especially. Bobbi’s with her, making sure she’s okay. Trip’s looking over Skye, but I don’t think she’ll sleep through the night.”

 

“Leaving you with the lunatic in Vault C,” Phil joked weakly, his hand reaching over to rub Melinda’s back. Her smile was faint at his attempts at comfort. “They’ll be okay. We’ll find Ward, we’ll keep them safe.”

 

Melinda nodded, curling over her knees. “Should have put a bullet in him when I had the chance.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Best moment would have been during the Lorelai situation. If Sif had stopped her just one minute later then none of this would be happening.” Melinda sunk her fingers into her hair, leaning further over her body. Phil could only stroke along her spine, trying to ease the tension he felt building inside of her. “I know the ‘What if’ game is pointless. But it’s my job to keep them safe, Phil.”

 

“And you’re doing an amazing one.” He leant across, stopping himself before he placed a kiss to her neck, her cheek, her mouth. Instead he just cradled her head, just for a second, before he pulled away. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you. And we’ll catch Ward, I know it. But for now, we both need to sleep.”

 

Melinda nodded. “You’re right. Can’t find Ward if I’m not on the top of my game.”

 

Phil was pleased when she uncurled herself, body relaxing against the mattress. He followed suit, smiling when he felt her hand reach for his shoulder. Her breathing was jagged to start with, slowly reducing into soft peaks as sleep claimed her. Other than that one night after Florida, he always fell asleep first. But now he was wide awake, left beside a sleeping Melinda.

 

She looked so beautiful, so at peace as she slept. He recalled a few mornings when he’d woken up before Audrey, had smiled as his fingers toyed with the hair splayed out over his bare skin. Whilst Audrey had enjoyed being so close, Melinda slept as far away as possible. But then they were partners, not lovers. Phil broached the pocket of air between them, shuffling closer as Melinda turned on her side to sleep.

 

Her hands were beside her head on the pillow. Phil’s own shook, desperate to hold the knife to carve, desperate to press into something to replicate the symbols he saw flashing through his mind. Sleep seemed like a distant dream, a hope of someone who had a tomorrow to wake up to. Like Melinda. She would be an _amazing_ Director. He wished he could see her. He wished a lot of things about her.

 

Swallowing, Phil indulged himself and left a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck. “You mean a lot to me, too.”

 

Phil felt the urge to carve bubble up inside him, this desperate need to understand what the symbols meant. He had been so selfish in his needs of her, and she’d given him everything she could possibly give. Focussing on stilling his hands, Phil wrapped his body around Melinda’s. One hand rested on her shoulder, the other along her own. She didn’t stir in his embrace, and Phil leant in closer. His breathing was ragged, he could feel sweat prickle against his temple. Yet when her fingers squeezed his own he felt safe, secure.

 

He could give her this. One uninterrupted night’s sleep and whatever Tahiti hadn’t taken of his heart.

 

\--

 

Suddenly the compulsion was gone.

 

One moment he was struggling to get drywall out from under his fingernails, his brain slowly turning to mush as the symbols corroded everything. The next he could _breathe._ There were still more answers, another step to the journey like there always was in the best kind of detective novels. But right now he could rest. His hands were still, there were no compulsions other than his own. He could finally start looking towards a future. A future for Shield. A future for _him_.

 

Phil took a long shower, taking the time to shave and brush his teeth. He pulled on fresh pyjamas, the only set not stained by dust or sweat. His fingers tremored as he pulled the drawstring of his pants; but he put that down to nerves. He was just so nervous.

 

He didn’t know how to place himself on the bed, whether to be under the covers or on top of them. Since uncovering the city he had rarely had a moment alone with Melinda. There had been the shouting, but that had been in front of Skye. There had been both briefings, but there had been plenty of people around for those. This was the first moment he would have with her alone since they’d found a way.

 

Phil couldn’t believe they’d found a way.

 

Sucking in a breath, Phil reached for the book beside him. Maybe if he was reading it would look more natural, less like he was trying to cover up his nerves. Now that the compulsion to carve was gone, Phil could give in to the other thing that was driving him.

 

He continued to wait, ears listening intently for the sounds of their normal bedtime routine. He smiled as he didn’t hear the padlock, just the electronic keypad for the security of the director. He kept smiling as he heard a tap running, the image of Melinda splashing water on her face coming to mind. Phil tried to control his breathing, tried to stop himself from embracing her as soon as she stepped through his door.

 

He heard the door to her former room open. Then it closed. Phil listened harder, even stepping out of the covers to press his ear to the wall that separated them both. Nothing. She wasn’t coming.

 

Phil retreated to his bed, body spread out in the middle of the mattress. There was still too much space. He should have realised that once the compulsion was gone, things would return to normal. She wasn’t his to ask of any more. The problem that clutched at his heart was that he was hers.

 

\--

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Phil nodded absentmindedly, his gaze focussed on the paperwork in front of him. Mission reports, inventory reports, work schedules…half of being the Director of SHIELD seemed to be paperwork these days. Still, it made a nice change from fighting for their lives or dealing with alien compulsions. Things were a little more ordinary. Like a guy, being in love with a girl who didn’t seem to realise.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” Melinda said, turning from the view out his window to watch him intently. He’d been given a clean bill of health, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough, not for her. “Phil?”

 

He looked up from the paperwork and plastered on a smile, reaching for another form to approve. “Of course.” His eyes ducked away, focussing on the paper in front of him. “What the hell is this?”

 

Phil had wondered why she had been hanging around so late. Obviously it was to discuss this particular form. “It’s for a change of room assignment.”

 

“ _Why_?”

 

“Now that things are back to normal, I think it’s best if I return to bunking with everyone else. I was going to, originally, remember? The room beside the training centre.”

 

Phil remembered. It had been a nice room, too. Perfect for when she wanted to train early. Instead the carving had begun, and he’d locked her up with him. But the padlock was gone now, and they only shared a bathroom instead of his bed. “You’re the second in command of SHIELD, Melinda. Your current quarters are fine. Any inappropriate conduct has already been…resolved.”

 

Melinda nodded; hands behind her back as she stood straight in front of him like a good soldier. He should really approve the form, but he didn’t want to. He wanted her in the next room. He wanted to share a mirror as they brushed their teeth. He wanted to indulge, even for five minutes a day, that he could have a life with her.

 

“Surely you want your own bathroom?”

 

“I want…” Phil sighed, leaning back against his chair. Melinda’s gaze narrowed, as if trying to read his mind. This wasn’t how he wanted to do this. After she’d stopped coming to his room, he’d pushed those feelings down like he always had. But he couldn’t lose this part. So here he was. “Come to bed with me.”

 

Melinda’s lips thinned. “Phil, there’s no need. The compulsion is gone.”

 

Phil pushed away from his chair, scrambling around his desk to stand in front of her. His hands hesitated in mid-air before they rested on her upper arms. “I don’t mean that. Well, I _do_ mean that. But something else, something more. I want more than _this._ I want everything. I want _you_.”

 

“You’re Director now…”

 

“I don’t give a _damn_ about rules or regulations so _please_ don’t use that as an excuse about why we can’t be together.” Phil slid his hands up to cradle her face. “I’ve used those excuses ever since we met. I’m in love with you. I have been for so long and I’m tired of hiding it, I’m tired of ignoring it.”

 

“Phil…”

 

He leant in closer, forehead resting against hers. He took it as a good sign that she didn’t pull away and kick him in the groin. He took it as an even better sign when she smiled. “The compulsion did a lot of things, but it gave me the chance to see what it would be like to wake up to you every morning. And I want that. If you don’t, I’ll approve the change in room assignment and we’ll forget about this conversation. But I think you feel the same. Do you?”

 

Phil felt nimble fingers clutch at the knot of his tie, drawing him even closer. “I’ll get my things.”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

Melinda nodded, eyes half closed as she leant forward. Her lips were so close. “Yes. It’s a yes.”

 

Despite the lateness of the hour, his office was not secure. Skye or Trip or Koenig could wander in, and it would get round the base so fast it would probably break the land speed record. So Phil reluctantly pulled away and began the process of locking up for the night. They would continue this discussion in their room. In _their_ bed.  

 

Outside his office, Phil wanted to rest his hand on the small of Melinda’s back but there were still a few agents lurking at this time of night. When Melinda used her lanyard to unlock the door to their corridor, Phil practically pushed them both through. Suddenly in private, Phil blanketed Melinda’s body as she entered in the various codes to keep the corridor secure.

 

“Do you want to use the padlock?” Melinda asked, reaching behind to press him even closer. Phil’s mouth hovered over her neck, his fingers touching hers as they put the lock in place.

 

Phil’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her tighter. He’d kept his distance for so long, afraid of getting close, afraid of hurting her. Now he couldn’t get close enough. “Are you sure you want this?”

 

Melinda nodded, hands wrapping around his. “Sharing a bed with you was somehow harder than promising to kill you.” Her fingers toyed with his mouth, brushing over his lips. “You’re not the only one who realised they wanted something more when they woke up to the only face they wanted to see.”

 

“I love you.” Phil whispered against her neck, lips finally meeting skin.

 

“I love you too.”

 

With the lock in place, they continued their normal bedtime routine. He washed his face, brushed his teeth extra hard. Melinda brushed her hair, fingers occasionally moving through it to untangle the strands. Phil found himself captivated, and more than once had to press against her back, enveloping her in a hug. He couldn’t stop touching her. He never wanted to stop touching her.

 

In his bedroom, Phil found that the nerves from before had returned. His hands shook as he turned down the sheets; as he adjusted his pyjama pants. He kept pacing, waiting for Melinda to return from her old room. Eventually he sighed and crawled into bed, arms crossed as he tried to control his breathing. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he heard two raps on his door.

 

“You look beautiful,” Phil said as she stepped through his doorway. _Their doorway._

 

“I’m in pyjama shorts and an old t-shirt, Phil,” Melinda corrected, closing the door behind her. She walked over to his bed, passing her side to come to his. She pulled the sheets from his body, replacing them with her own. Phil’s hands settled on her waist, holding her as she straddled his lower body. “You didn’t want to go straight to sleep, did you?”

 

Phil shook his head. “Not at all. I have a question, though. Is this my shirt?” he asked, fingers toying with the hem.

 

Melinda laughed. “You want it back?”

 

“I thought I already told you what I want.”

 

“Then take it back.”

 

Phil’s fingers were gentle as they lifted Melinda’s t-shirt from her skin. She curled her arms above her head as he undressed her, the t-shirt carelessly tossed to one side. He stared, his fingers eager to explore as he gazed at her half naked form. Phil recognised some of the scars that marred her skin, wanted to press his mouth to the ones that he did not. For the moment his attention was taken by her breasts, dark nipples puckering in the cold air.

 

“Like I said: _beautiful._ ”

 

With his hands still holding her waist, Phil leant down to kiss her body. He started with her stomach, the pace of his lips agonisingly slow as he kissed around her belly button. Fingers threaded through his hair, encouraging his ministrations. Her hips rose with his mouth, fingers stroking the underside of her breasts. He kissed further, past her breasts and up her collarbone until he came face to face with the woman he loved.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

One hand cupped her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw as he finally kissed her. His kiss was just as gentle, just as languid in its exploration of Melinda’s mouth as it had been of her body. Phil moaned when he felt the flicker of her tongue against his lips and let her take over. She was all-consuming; her lips hot and wet against his mouth.

 

Phil felt them descend, his back pressed against the mattress. Melinda’s lips left his, nipping and sucking a path down the front of his SHIELD issued t-shirt. Smiling, her hands slid under the material to stroke his chest. The fabric got caught up in the process, and Phil helped Melinda tug it from his body. He didn’t feel ashamed of his scar, not with Melinda. She had enough marks on her own body not to judge, not to stare. His fingers laced through her hair as she kissed along the grizzly lines that showed what New York had cost him.

 

“Melinda, _Melinda,_ oh that feels so good.”

 

Phil pressed his head back against the pillows, his cock hardening in his pyjama pants. It had been so long since he’d done this, and previously any release he’d enjoyed had involved carving. He was already worked up, doubtful to last long at all. Maybe next time. But right now he just needed _her._

 

Hooking his leg around his partner’s, Phil twisted Melinda onto her back. She was breathing heavily, her breasts heaving with every motion. Phil took the opportunity and wrapped his mouth around a nipple, tongue swirling it into a point. His fingers toyed with the other, massaging her breast until he could hear a moan come through with every breath. Fingers ran against his scalp, nails scratching until his teeth caught her skin.

 

“ _Phil,_ ” Melinda gasped, grinning as she pressed her body hard against the mattress. “Please don’t stop.”

 

“I never want to stop touching you.”

 

Whilst his mouth kissed and sucked her breasts, his hands started caressing the legs he’d had daydreams about for years. They were soft under the pads of his fingers, and Phil sighed as he traced increasingly smaller circles against the skin of her thigh, leading to the sleep shorts she wore.

 

“These have to come off,” Phil said, mouth leaving her breasts long enough to say that. “I want to taste all of you.”

 

Melinda was his new compulsion. He couldn’t get enough of how her skin felt, whether it was under the tip of his tongue or the pads of his fingers. The sleep shorts she had worn to bed were deftly removed, leaving her naked underneath him. Melinda took his mouth again, tongue pressing insistently against his lips as she kissed him hard. They pushed up together, Melinda’s body wrapping tightly around him. Everything was Melinda May and Phil didn’t want anything else.

 

“I haven’t got condoms,” Phil said, sucking in a breath as he realised his mistake. “I didn’t think…I haven’t since…” It was so hard to think with Melinda rocking against him. “Do you have any?”

 

Pausing, Melinda shook her head. “No, although I’ll be putting an extra-large box on the shopping list tomorrow.” He laughed, adjusting his grip on Melinda’s back as he held her closer. He didn’t want to let her go, but he would if this was a problem. “It’ll be fine.” Her mouth connected with his neck, drawing his skin in-between her teeth. “Just don’t stop touching me.”

 

Phil nodded, his hands helping Melinda rock against his cock. He didn’t want anything between them. No clothes, no sheets, just the two of them wrapped up in each other. He reluctantly left Melinda against the wrinkled sheets just long enough to kick off his pyjama pants. His legs were unsteady as he crawled back to her, his aching cock bobbing against his stomach. Melinda leant back, legs open with her hands clutching the headboard.

 

Sucking in a well needed breath, Phil dropped a kiss to the inside of Melinda’s thigh. He kept working his way closer, lips sliding across bare skin until he finally met her pussy. His tongue licked his way up, his bottom lip catching the base of her clit. Phil looked up, happy at how on edge Melinda appeared. He was a mess himself, his head as fuzzy as it had been when he’d been carving. But the symbols didn’t control him now. He made his own choices. And he chose Melinda.

 

His mouth stroked her clit, tracing delicate patterns against the sensitive nerve. His fingers slid against her aroused skin, one toying with the entrance to her body. Nails scratched his shoulders, hands that had been so gentle when he’d tried to sleep now clinging desperately as he made love to her. Phil pushed her closer to the edge, feeling her body tremble with every slight lick and thrust.

 

Suddenly Phil felt himself being pushed away, nails gripping his shoulder blades as Melinda forced him backwards. She mounted him quickly, his cock pushing inside of her. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her close as he thrust upwards. She was so wet; it was so easy to slide his cock in and out. Phil hated pulling out of her, but relished every time he could thrust back inside. He needed her closer, needed every part of her. His fingers returned to her clit, eagerly rubbing against it.

 

Phil could feel the moment Melinda came over the edge. Her nails dug so tight into his shoulders he swore she drew blood. He felt her body spasm around his cock, his name gasped again and again into his ear. Phil clutched her as close as he could, riding out her orgasm until he felt his own spill over. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, desperately groaning a million versions of her name until the pleasure subsided.

 

“I love you,” Melinda whispered, leaving a gentle press of her lips to his jaw. “I’m so glad you came back to me.”  

 

“Believe me, I didn’t want to go.”

 

They washed up, minimal clothing put back on. Phil left his t-shirt on the floor, and he was glad to see Melinda do the same. They curled up in their bed, under their sheets, with Phil’s body wrapped around her. Fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, Melinda rewarding him with every kiss he made to her shoulder blades. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect way to go to bed to each night, or to wake up to every morning.

 

Even though the carving had cost him much, Phil would never regret having Melinda sleep beside him. This was, after all, where they were supposed to be.

 

 


End file.
